Kame no Kodomo
by YAY Productions
Summary: From the Shredder's very beginning as Yoshi's brother to the deaths of each and every one of Splinter's sons, this is the story of the life and history of the ninja turtles.
1. A Beginning is Never Easy

**Hello true believers! I am back ( and for good this time! I promise ). This is my latest creation, alongside my sister MaraStudios on deviantART. This is the first part in an ongoing series which should see the creation of the Turtles all the way to their deaths. Thanks for reading!**

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There are not many clans left in this world. As the Western ideology has spread across the globe, the people who have followed the true, ancient, honorable ways have begun fading away. Instead of banding together, the few left have maintained feuds that have stretched on for generations. Living outside conventional law, taking matters into their own hands, living as their families have for centuries. There is little need for a police force when revenge is easily and quietly served.

Flames continued roaring around the ninjutsu master as he listened quietly. A whimper, a cry. It was there, very evident. His hardened face began to soften as he glanced at the body below his feet. The living cries were not coming from the deceased, no, they were coming from underneath it. Bending down, the man grabbed the body's shoulders, grimacing at the loss of precious life. The terrified face was staring back at him, frozen in fear. Clutched tightly though, beneath the small form, gasps for air were wavering. Picking the youngling up, the man looked at the soot covered child. Clean streaks ran down from the little one's eyes, down its cheeks, dripping from its chin. As sirens wailed in the background, no doubt coming to save what was already lost, the man brought the offspring of his enemy to his chest.

"Shhh…" He soothed, glancing one last time to the crumpled remains on the ground. "All will be alright. I am your father now, and I will make sure no one will hurt you again."

The orphan whimpered, fingering the man's robes. Its breathing steadied, its eyes closing, disappearing to a world of dreams. The man silently prayed that the child would not remember its mother's screams.

Slinking back into the surrounding wood, he made his way swiftly back to his men. It was grave, what they were forced to do, and their expressions told him that none took it lightly. "It is today… this day," He breathed. "That this clan can no longer do us any harm. You can sleep well, my brothers. Go home now, to your wives, to your mothers. They will want to know that you are safe."

Respectfully, they bowed their heads, not questioning the stirring bundle in his arms. They knew his fierce reputation, the fire that burned within him, but there was a gentleness too. They knew him well after fighting beside him, and while they bowed in tribute for him leading them through a successful victory, they also knew of his mercy.

A quiet cough gave from the one in his arms. A poultice would do nicely, no doubt, to clear out the lungs for the both of them. Hopefully the cough would go away soon, and no illness would come. He could only hope for this as he stepped up to his home. The sweet scent of cherry blossoms was far better than smoke, and he silently thanked his wife for insisting that they be planted.

He wished she could see him coming. She would have thrown open the door, flinging herself onto him. He would have merely nodded to her, and she would have known that it was over. The war that they had been battling, the lives that had been lost, it had not been in vain. Even she would have agreed that his conclusion was right; if peace between the clans could not be made, then a swift judgment needed to be decided. They could only take so much death.

But she was not there. She was why he was there, finishing it once and for all. They had taken her from him, and he would never be able to reach her until he made his own trip to the spirit world. He would have chosen to have left now, to sacrifice himself to be with her, but his honor kept him grounded. He has a responsibility to his clan. He had not just buried her mere days ago, but his father as well. The head, the leader, the master of the family. That role and title now belonged to him. It was not one that he wanted without his precious wife by his side, but it was the hand that he was dealt with now. It was not something that he could just ignore. They were counting on him, every single one of them. They were more than just his fellow warriors. They were more than just keepers of the code. There was a bond between them stretched beyond blood itself, and he knew he could not leave them in this changing world alone. Someone had to keep the practices going. Someone had to never forget.

A small light flickered in the window as he approached. A figure moved slightly, and he felt his heart begin to quicken. As the steps beneath his feet creaked, the figure twisted, its form quickly moving for the door. The door, which would have been opened by his beloved, was opened by someone much smaller. Someone with a lot to learn.

"Otōsan!" The voice sounded both scared and relieved. Looking down, the man knew that this was why he really stayed on this earth. If he were to fall, his brothers could elect someone new. He was only in power because they respected him and his father, but they respected many of the other great masters as well. No, when it came down to it all, the reason why he chose to stay grafted to a world where his wife was no longer by his side was because of the gift that she left for him.

"My son…" The words could barely escape from his throat as he knelt down to embrace the boy. There was nothing more precious to him than this. As his own flesh and blood tried to press against him though, the child in between them shifted, murmuring.

"Father?" The large, dark eyes gazed up at him, his tone barely above a whisper. "Father, who is he?"

"This, my dear Yoshi… This is Saki, your new brother."

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 **Thanks for still being here! Means a lot. It would mean even more if you could send a comment my way, that way I know how to better future chapters. Additionally, _if you want to see geek related content, including fanfiction related videos on Fridays,_ I recommend checking out the YouTube channel _Geek_**


	2. Son of Yuuta

**A/N: Hello everybody! Did you like that little bait and switch of the last chapter? Be prepared for more heart wrenching sadness later on...**

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As the dim morning light filtered through the open panel door, Yuuta knelt down at the head of the small, wooden table. A son on each side, he nodded silently as they picked up their _hashi_ chopsticks. Pouring his tea, he enjoyed the sound of the early birds singing their morning song. As Yoshi and Saki ate their _gohan_ and _sakana_ , he was quite content to sip on his _misoshiru_. Today would be spent in meditation, practicing the _toh_ mantra. Harmony was ever important this day, maybe even more so than any other day. Three years ago, his enemy, Oroku Kaiji, was destroyed. Yuuta had expected a great fight after the war that Kaiji raged on him, but once it came time for the warrior to defend his family with the honor and strength of a thousand ancestors, the fool became a whimpering coward.

Kaiji had not just been a coward though. He was careless, and worse, ignoble. After dropping a burning lantern on the dry floor, he left his two sleeping sons to perish in their home. He shoved his wife to the ground as he scrambled to get out of the way, and when Yuuta's blade pierced him, the dastard cried out for the same woman. As terrified as she was, she fell to his side. She had more honor that he, and Yuuta could respect her for that. She watched as her home burned, crying for her lifeless husband, screaming for her dead children. Her hair hung sweaty to her face as she clutched Kaiji's head, rocking back and forth as she doubled down, meeting his blank gaze.

Yuuta had pulled her up from the dirt, away from the bloodied body. She beat against his chest, her small fists hitting him like a _wadaiko_ drum. Her nails began digging into his flesh, and he could not imagine her pain. He had lost his father, his wife, but to lose his son? That would be unimaginable to him, let alone to a woman who had grown her children in her very womb and labored for their lives. To have them ripped away from her so cruelly, he never wanted innocents to die. Only those who dealt out cruel deaths themselves. There was rarely, if ever, honor in killing women or children.

"Leave this place," He dictated his command to her. "Return to your family and forsake the name of Oroku. Forget this day, put it behind you." She sobbed, her voice cracking, but she began backing away from him. "It will not be easy. But I promise this to you, upon my word that just as you choose to forget, so we will forget you. You will not have to live in fear, Miyoko-san, for the remainder of your days."

She stood straight, her understanding clear as tears still poured down her face. A call came from one of his brothers, and he turned for a moment to see the man gesturing. Glancing back at Miyoko one last time, he saw her vanishing into the nearby wood. Breathing deeply, he moved swiftly back to his men.

A cry had been heard in the burning building. Yuuta's heart clenched. No more death. Not in the Oroku clan, not in the Hamato clan. There had been enough blood, and he took his own risks as he slid into the home of his former enemy.

He had found the two year old underneath the crisp corpse of his brother. The older of the two had saved the younger, and Yuuta knew he learned from his mother. Kaiji could have never taught his sons this honor, and it grieved him to see a mere child have been burned because of the mistakes of his father. How could he, as a master, let this happen? How could he not defend those he claimed to be the head of? More importantly though, how could he as a father, leave his children like this? His soul be cursed, ever haunted by the death of his son. May he never find peace, nor his father or his father's father.

A sudden sound jolted Yuuta's attention from his memories. Saki was trying to pour tea for his brother, clashing the glass kettle against the cup. The cup was now chipped, but Yuuta simply picked it up, smiling softly at his wide eyed sons. "Thank you for pouring your brother's tea, Saki. What do you do in return, Yoshi?" Picking the kettle up gingerly, Yoshi poured the tea shakily into his brother's own cup. "Good, my sons. Never forget, we are not here in this life to serve ourselves, but to always serve others." Rubbing Saki's hair lightly, he smirked. "It seems that you are learning that faster than your brother." Yoshi bowed his head, his eyes clearly in wanting of the same affection. "Yoshi, take Saki ahead to the dojo. I will join you for meditation."

Glad to be given a task, Yoshi grinned. Standing, he and and his brother bowed to their father before Saki raced out the door ahead of him. "Come, Nagi, or I will get there first!"

Cringing ever so slightly, Yuuta watched as Yoshi quickly gained on Saki. Some said that it was a mistake bringing Saki into his home, the son of his enemy. Some said that the choice would come back and haunt him. But Yuuta could not judge the young child child based on what he might do, but what he had done. And he had done nothing worth of Yuuta's ill will. He could be… he was a Hamato. He was a son of Yuuta. He was but a mere child, and even now he did not remember most things. It was a slip of the tongue to call Yoshi the name of his former brother. If he were to ever find out his past though, Yuuta prayed that he would remember the affection that he showed him. That he was just as beloved as Yoshi. That he would understand.

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 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading to the very end! If you could leave a comment, that would be great! For more fanfiction awesomeness, check out _Geek Crossing_ on YouTube. See how fanfiction is affecting what we watch on the big screen! Also, vote on which YouTuber we should review next!  
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